Love in the Blogosphere
by EdernaW
Summary: AU Set in London 2012, a group of acquaintances are thrown together in a mess of drama when a charming new Doctor befriends local detective Jack Harkness. Rose Tyler wants to see the world, and secretly dreams of the stars, so she joins an online community of anonymous bloggers. This is a tale of secrets, lies, masks, betrayal, and ntains all main companions of nuwho


_**Okay, so I had an idea. What if all the companions of NewWho had their own TV Drama, you know, like One Tree Hill or Criminal Minds, or a combination of both? See how they would react with one another if they all actually knew one another, you know? This fic was inspired by a gifset that I saw on Tumblr by itsvolcanoday. So this was born. This is the first chapter, I hope it's good. I would really love your feedback to see if this is a thing that people would enjoy. It's my second time attempting a long story like this, and hopefully this one will be a success.**  
_

_**These first few chapters are focusing on each of the companions (this is written pre-Clara, but post-Oswin. I will make necessary changes if I see fit.) and their lives. These will establish ready-made friendships, enemies, and cases of nonchalance toward other characters. The Doctor (in Tenth Form since I'm a Ten/Rose shipper) will make an appearance a few chapters in. That's when the drama will start. I also included Eight... because everyone needs some Eight. I love Eight. See if you can figure out who he is.**_

_**Anywho... here we** go!_

_Rose Tyler decides she's had enough. She wants to start over and not have to worry about her boyfriend proposing. She's young and wants to see the world. Her best friend Amy Pond is dealing with a detached older sister who lives to work. Donna Noble keeps looking for something, though she doesn't know what, while she listens to her best friend Martha Jones always complain about her Prick of a boss. Sarah Jane Smith deals with her two Children, both adults, and both suffering since her husband's wrongful conviction._

* * *

Her eyes were closed, but she could hear everything happening around her. She knew her mother was in the kitchen with her uncle, complaining about some tart she'd run into at the market earlier in the day ("She just grabbed it out of my hand! Already had a basketful of 'em, but she just kept grabbing more. So I said, Oi there, what if I need an avocado-"). She could hear her mobile phone buzzing incessantly on the coffee table next to her, and she knew that it was Amy calling her for the fifth time since she'd told her what she planned to do that evening. However, she didn't know whether her friend was going to talk her out of it, or encourage her. Rose didn't want to know which- she had to prove to herself that she could make an adult decision with or without support from her best friend.

There was a knock on the door, but Rose had sensed that coming, too. She'd been expecting it for hours as she sat there. She heard Jackie mutter under her breath as she made her way to answer it, hands still dripping wet from washing the dishes. Pleasantries were exchanged, and as she'd expected she heard the voice of Mickey Smith- her on again/off again boyfriend of the last four years.

She finally opened her eyes when she felt the sofa cushion adjust to the pressure of another body. He was there, brown eyes, dark skin, dark jacket. But he was missing the grin that had haunted her dreams, his face the picture of anxiety. It would be easier this way, she thought, without his puppy dog grin to dissuade her of her decision.

Offering a small barely-comforting smile at her boyfriend, she took his hand and stood, beckoning him to follow her into her bedroom. Behind them, Rose heard her Uncle Jack yell out a catty remark of, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, Rosie!"

It's too late for that, she thought. Jack would never give into the total decency of a proper break-up, choosing instead to lead people on. Fuck and ditch was his motto; he'd never had a proper relationship in his life. Rose, on the other hand, had been with this same boy since she was fourteen years old. And as much as she loved him, she had realized years ago that she was not in love with him. They had been teetering on the edge of together and not together for a while, only acting the part of a couple when attending functions or introducing themselves to new people. It wasn't real anymore, and it was time to end it once and for all.

Rose wanted to travel, Mickey was going to inherit the car shop down the road.

Rose didn't want to get married. Not this young, at least. Mickey proposed the idea of proposing to her last night.

Rose was tired of the monotonous sex. Mickey loved the sex.

She didn't see them having a future that was compatible with the both of them. She knew she wasn't mature enough to make a relationship last in the type of binding permanence he was hoping for. She knew he couldn't make her happy, in turn, she would make him just as miserable. And she didn't want that for him.

"It's over Mickey. You know we can't do this any more," she told him gently.

"I know," he replied quietly. "I've known for a while, Rose, but I'm scared."

"Scared of what? Scared of moving on?"

"No. I'm scared that if I let go of this- this is a good thing we've built- if I let go of this, that'll be it for me. I don't want you to leave."

Rose laughed, albeit quietly when she replied, "Mickey, we're both so young. I dunno if there actually is anyone out ther for either of us, but we'll never know if we don't give it a try."

"Is that it, then," he snapped, standing up and marching over to her. "Is that why? Is there someone else?"

"No, there isn't. God, how could you even say that?"

"Are you sure you don't just resent me for finding you so early on?"

"I don't resent you," she bit out, teeth gritted. "There's no one else. I just don't want this," and gestured between them. "I love you. I really do, but this isn't that kind of love any more, Mick. We've reached a stalemate. I just want to be able to live my life, find my calling an not have to worry about anybody but myself. God, won't you just let me be selfish for once?" She didn't mean to start ranting. It wasn't fair, but she'd started now and she couldn't stop. "Every decision I make, I don't just weigh it against my life, I'm always so burdened with your stupid face, too. I'm too young to do that. The last time I did anything for myself was when I bought fast food and didn't buy any extra for you. I was fourteen, Mickey."

He stood quietly. He knew she was right, and he knew that it was over. But he thought, maybe, if they stayed in this room for a bit longer, that he could pretend it wasn't.

It wasn't much longer before the two hugged, Rose whispering her apology, and Mickey saying absolutely nothing. They let go and he left her room, left her apartment, and tried desperately to leave her life. There was no way he could watch her live and move on without him, without feeling an all consuming jealousy.

Rose returned to her seat on the sofa and grabbed her phone.

_7 missed calls and 5 new voice messages 15 new text messages_

All from Amy Pond, she sighed, dialing her friend's number and listening to the incessant ringing until she picked up.

* * *

"But that Boss of yours," Donna Noble said into her phone at the market, "now he's a tall drink of water. Why don't you just get with that and get over your sad need for a shag."

"Because, Donna," said her friend through the speaker, "he doesn't do stuff like that. One night stands are his thing- he likes it only if he never has to see the poor girl again. He has to see me every day." Donna listened as she inspected and avocado for green specks.

"So you don't want to shag him," she stated, picking up another avocado.

"No," her friend replied. Agitated, Donna threw a couple more avocados into her shopping basket and huffed.

"Why not? He's handsome, suave, downright eff-able."

"Why don't you shag him then," her friend replied.

"Martha, I'd need _you_ to introduce us first, and you don't seem to be willing to do that."

"He's a pig, Donna! He just wants the sex and he'll hop out of bed the moment he's come, and go searching for another bimbo the next night," she stressed.

"One night isn't a problem for me," Donna replied, absentmindedly adding a couple more avocados to her basket. "I don't particularly care."

"Besides," Martha continued, "Even if I did want to, which I don't, he's my boss. And for a guy with such a bad love ethic, he's got quite the strict work ethic."

"Yes, but I," Donna said holding an avocado up in the air and rolling her eyes- completely oblivious to the scene she'd made- "Don't work with him!" Martha laughed.

"Oi," said a voice from the other side of the avocado bin, "what if I need an avocado?" Donna peered at the speaking blond woman, then glanced to her own basket to see it overflowing with the dark fruit.

"Right," She said into the speaker. "I'll call you back later, yeah," and hung up.

"What do you need all those for, then, eh," the woman continued.

Trying to save her dignity, Donna replied the only way she knew how, "Of course I need all of these!" Rolling her eyes, she practically yelled, "I'm makin' Guacamole!"

The other woman stood there in shock as the boisterous, and possibly insane, ginger woman stalked off toward the cash registers, basket full of avocados.

* * *

Wilfred Mott was not old. He wasn't. He only had just lived about forty years more than the people he surrounded himself with. He loved every single one of these kids, and he didn't think they thought any less of him.

He sat outside every day with his newspapers at his newsstand chatting with the locals and jokingly discussing alien conspiracies with the over-eager teen crowd. He listened to people, too. He was Old Wilf, the wisest and kindest man. He always refused to be any sort of shrink, but the kids kept coming.

Oh, how he knew they would cringe at being called kids. But he'd known almost all of them since their childhood. It doesn't matter if they'd all grown up and landed themselves with high-paying or dead-end jobs. They all still came to him whenever they just needed to talk, and he was always ready to just listen to them, no matter what kind of troubles they had.

As much as he loved them all, though, there was none he loved chatting with more than his grandson Rory. The boy was smart- too smart for his own good, Wilf thought sometimes. He was in his third year at University, studying to become a doctor and living with his cousin Donna who he saw more as a sister. His parents died when he was quite young, and when Donna's parents took him in to their home, Wilf was ecstatic to have another grandchild.

However, Donna had moved out when she grew into adulthood, and Sylvia-her mother- had wanted to move out to Chiswick. Rory was just starting his A-Levels and was stubbornly refusing to move with Sylvia. So Donna, being the kindhearted sister type, offered to let the boy live with her in her flat. Only two years apart, and the two got on so well that living together without Sylvia as a mediator wasn't such a burden.

Wilf visited as often as he could without feeling like he was imposing on the pair. He gave them enough space to know that he respected their lives and didn't want to add his own well being as something the two should have to constantly worry about. They said they didn't mind, but he knew better. His own house was empty now, since Sylvia left, but he was happy there. It was peaceful.

But Rory never failed to come see him every day after classes on his way home. He'd buy a paper and they would talk for at least an hour. Recently, he'd begun to chatter on about a friend he'd made at school.

"You know that girl, the one Donna spends time with that's almost as annoying as she is," he'd asked his chuckling grandfather "Well, she has this sister, Amy. I've known her as long as Mels and Donna have been friends, but we weren't ever friends. Different schools, you know," and Wilf listened to the tale of Amy Pond, who had caught Rory's eye in the library one day, reading children's books behind a pile of mythical journals and history books.

"She's a pretty one, then," Wilf asked, eyes teasing. Rory blushed.

"Yeah, she's very pretty. I mean, she's always been pretty. But I think she's actually fascinating," he mused, packing his newspaper into his book bag and mounting his bicycle. "Are you going to come over for dinner tonight?"

"Oh no, you kids go on without me. I have a date with a Miss Sarah Jane, tonight," he replied, waving him off and closing down shop.

* * *

"Come hang out with me and Mels tonight, if you want. It'll make you feel better," Amy offered Rose. The girls were laying on Rose's bed, three hours after Rose had broken up with Mickey.

"No, it's alright. Mum and I were going to have a movie tonight. Casablanca or Gone With the Wind or something." They both sighed.

"Well, that's good too," Amy winced. "Since I lied. I have no idea what Mels is doing tonight. For all I know, I'll have the place to myself and I can invite Jeff over," she teased.

Rose laughed, a hearty laugh that she hadn't been able to laugh for the past few hours. "Right, and what are you gonna do with Jeff? Watch football all night and eat Nachos?" Amy wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Yeah, maybe not," she amended. "Oh, but remember I told you about Rory?"

"Who's Rory," Rose asked.

"You know, Rory."

Rose shook her head. "No, I don't know."

"Rory," Amy said again, raising an eyebrow, pointedly.

"Oh!," the blonde gasped, "You mean Raggedy Rory! We would dress him up in that God awful tweed whenever his mum made him go with his sister to your house!"

"Yeah," the other girl mumbled, "that Rory."

"Well what about him?"

"I saw him on Campus yesterday. He's taller than me now."

Both girls burst out laughing. "Is that it," Rose asked, wiping a stray tear from her eye.

"We talked for a bit,"

"Is he still weird?"

"A little, I don't know."

"I bet he really resents us," Rose mused, the devious smile returning to her face.

"Actually," Amy interjected, "He doesn't seem to remember any of it." Rose was surprised. "He just asked if I was Melody's sister and it went from there."

"What went," Rose said, laughing again.

"Oh you know. The thing. It went. He's in love with me now, no doubt about it."

"You are so full of yourself, you know that," Rose said, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I know," her friend agreed. "In fact, I was reading kids books. Like the story of the Pandora's Box? He probably thinks I have a mental disability or something," she finished, giggling into the pillow she had pulled unto her chest.

* * *

Sarah Jane Smith had set three places at the dinner table. Wilf had called to assure her he was on his way, but she hadn't heard from Mickey since he'd left that afternoon to see Rose. She knew what was coming, she just hoped her son was prepared to deal with it- she didn't begrudge the girl, as she had been hoping for years that the young couple would see where their relationship was going.

Wilf arrived, and dinner was had by the two old friends despite Mickey's absence.

"I hope he's alright," Sarah Jane worried aloud. Wilf looked encouraging.

"I'm sure he's out getting his thoughts together. Kids bounce back pretty well, from what I remember."

"That does seem to be the case," she smiled. "I do hope Rose is doing alright, too. She made the right choice as far as I'm concerned. But it's still hard. Those two have been inseparable since they were children."

"I know, but Rose is a tough girl. I've never seen someone so stubborn in my life," Wilf laughed.

"She gets it from Jackie," explained Sarah Jane.

"I wouldn't know," he chuckled, "I've never properly met the woman. I hear she's fierce!"

"Oh she is. She'd be a right terror if you ever managed to get on her bad side."

"Sounds like my Donna," Wilf said, shuddering at the thought of what would happen if the two women ever crossed paths. "Speaking of stubborn women," He continued, "When will we be hearing from Miss Oswin?"

Oswin Oswald, Sarah Jane's step-daughter had left home a couple months after turning seventeen when her application for the British BAU (Behavioral Analysis Unit). Her advanced knowledge of computers landed her the job, and her drive to find and serve justice to criminals was put to use.

"I don't know," Sarah Jane confessed. "You know she hasn't been the same since Paul-"

"I know," Wilf interrupted. "Poor girl. She's motivated, though, I'll give her that."

"Yes she is. I hope she finds peace somehow. It's time she moved on," her voice suddenly turning cold.

"Have you given up, Sarah Jane," He asked her, expression laced with surprise. "Paul isn't dead. He isn't even guilty!"

"I know, but what are we supposed to do? The lawyers have stopped helping, it's been years. They say it's too late to pull up any evidence that he's innocent and the actual culprit is long gone," she cried. Taking a deep breath, she continued, "I'm sorry Wilf. I just don't know what to do. We were barely married and it all happened so quickly. I think Oswin resents me, sometimes."

"There, there, now-" Wilf started, when they heard the door swing open and slam shut. Sarah stood.

"Is that you, Mickey," she called into the other room.

"Yes, mum," he replied, marching up the stairs to his room.

"Are you hungry?"

"No." Another door slammed shut. Sarah looked over to Wilfred, shaking his head sympathetically. She slumped back into her chair and laughed bitterly.

"Well then. I guess I'll just clear up these plates."

_**So? What do you think so far? Huh? Is it worth continuing? The next chapter will have Melody, Jack, Martha, and more Rory. So drop off a review, yeah?**_


End file.
